California Dreamin'
by FrontPageGirl22
Summary: AU story. What if when Jess left Stars Hollow to live with his father he actually talked to Rory about it. The two split on amicable terms agreeing to take a break. They keep in touch and her invites her and Paris to spend Yale spring break with him in LA
1. Welcome to the Hotel California

California Dreamin'

Disclaimer: I do not own Gilmore Girls, any of its settings or characters. They belong to the respective owners including Amy Sherman Palladino, Daniel Palladino and Helen Pai. I also do not own nor do I claim any of the books, movies, songs or bands that are referenced from here on out.

Author Notes: The first part of this chapter is done through the thoughts of Rory, Paris and Glen. _Italicized text denotes Rory's thoughts_, **bold text denotes Paris' thoughts**, underlined text denotes Glen's thoughts. And this is an AU story. In this story Jess leaves Stars Hollow to live with his father but actually talks to Rory about it. The two split on amicable terms agreeing to take a break since they are both facing big life changes. They stay in touch and write letters back and forth though. Jess invites Rory and yes even Paris (because he knows they are a package deal) to spend spring break with him in California. As for Glen...well someone had to drive to the airport. Now our feature presentation!

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Chapter One: Welcome to the Hotel California

Look at all these trees! And all those dogs! And all this grass! Think of the pollen! Think about all the dust floating around! It makes me think. Did I bring refills for all my allergy medications? I hope so. This is a miserable trip already.

**My god, look at Glen panicking already. We haven't been here an hour yet and he's already going into a panic attack. I can't say I don't sympathize though. I'm starting to have second thoughts about this trip as well. I mean, why did I agree to come here. Was I trying to prove something to myself? Maybe, I was angry at Asher and was trying to prove something to him. It doesn't matter. I should have gone to Oxford with him. There's no way this so called 'beach bungalow' can comfortably accommodate three extra people. Crazy Venice Beach hippies and there rainbow shacks. **

_Why does Paris keep staring like that? She looks even more aggravated than usual. I'll bet she knows that during the plane ride over here when she asked me to think of intellectual activities to do while we're here I wasn't of any ideas at all. I'll bet she knows what I'm thinking now. Yes, she knows that I'm nervous about seeing Jess because he loves me... maybe. And I love him...I think. Or maybe Mom's right. I just think too much. _

The sun is unnaturally bright here. The holes in the ozone layer must be absolutely gigantic. Good thing I brought a whole case of sunscreen. Yes, yes there's nothing like some good old Coppertone SPF 70 to keep your skin safe. Let me just reach down into my blue bag here and-- oh my god! I don't feel it! What could of happened to it? Did it fall out into the overhead compartment? Or in the trunk of our taxi? This is awful. Now I'm going to be fried to a crisp. Melanoma here I come. 

**These crazy people are all about free expression. Yes, that's there excuse for not conforming and contributing to the rest of society--free expression. Albert Camus was about free expression too and look where he ended up. **

_I can't believe how nervous I am; but, what if he's found someone else. I mean, there's no way I can compare to any of these bleach blond bikini babes. I'm just a frumpy brunette from Connecticut. Then, why did he invite me here?_

I'm sure of it now. I'm going to die of an asthmatic attach, or sun poisoning or from salt water filling up my lungs after I slip off a surfboard and break my neck! 

**Dear God! These people have compost bins! Compost bins! I mean I'm all for recycling seeing as it's the 'in' thing right now but in all seriousness what kind of barbarians just collect dirt, and liter and waste in colorful containers and call it a hobby.**

_Paris is totally freaked out by the compost bins._

I hope I don't accidentally fall into the compost bins.

_We look stupid standing out here. We have to go in sometime. He's probably wondering where I...I mean...we are anyways._

"Paris, Glen, you guys ready to go in?" Rory asked grasping her luggage tightly.

"Ready when you are Rory," replied Glen. "In fact, the sooner I get inside the better.

"You first Gilmore," Paris interrupted cutting in front of Glen. "After all, it's your bad-boy, boho, angst-filled, artsy lover's family were staying with." Glen squinted not sure what to make of Paris' petite rant. Rory inhaled deeply and got ready to lay some ground rules for this so-called vacation.

"Paris, that's not true. Jess and I aren't even dating anymore. We haven't even seen each other since January."

"When he told you he loved you."

"That's beside the point." The brunette flushed. "Look, just please refrain from saying things like that once we get inside, okay?" Rory shrugged, realizing she was fighting an unwinable argument.

"I make no promises."

"Ring the bell Glen." Rory sighed at her companion's response. And ring the bell Glen did. In fact, he rang it with such urgency that one might have thought he was stuck outside with two crazy women.

Soon after a tall, blond, broad shouldered woman came to the door. She wore an energetic smile in addition to jeans, a vintage looking orange t-shirt and a tie-dye wrap on her head. Excitedly, she opened the door and gestured for the quartet to come in.

"You guys must be Jess' friends." She said while trying to close the door and ward off one of the more aggressive dogs. "I'm so excited you guys are here. We don't get to entertain often but I love the excitement of meeting new people. I'm Sasha, Jimmy's girlfriend and owner of this house and unfortunately that also means I have to inform you of the rules of the house. There aren't many but I ask that you follow the few we have. First of all curfew is 1 am period. We're all smokers here except for my daughter and she's nine but we do ask that you smoke outside. No one under 21 is allowed to drink. We eat at least one meal together a day. Everyone is expected to pick up after themselves. I know I don't have to even talk about drugs and... which one of you is Rory?" Glen and Paris ousted their friend by pointing to her. "I thought so. Rory, sex is forbidden in this house for people who don't own the house because they are the son of the guy whose girlfriend owns the house if you know what I mean. So, don't let him convince you otherwise. You seem like a smart girl and I think I'll like you so I don't want to see you knocked up."

"I understand." Rory stammered embarrassed and confused by Sasha's bluntness.

"I like her!" Paris declared "I also like that Picasso in the Kitchen. It gives the place kind of a Spanish flavor." Sasha turned around and grinned.

"That's what I told Jimmy but he insists that it just looks like a pornographic picture puzzle on an acid trip. If you kids like art you should definitely go to the Getty Museum while you're here. By the way how long are you staying? That'll probably be helpful information for when I go grocery shopping."

"Two weeks," Rory began.

"Three weeks," Paris interrupted her. "I got Asher to make some arrangements with our Professors. They provided him with all the work will be missing the extra week and he provided me with it. So, thanks to my connection we get an extra week of spring break." Paris smiled proudly and put her hands on her hips while Glen grumbled.

"Simply astonishing, a-ston-ishing."

"Now that you've worked that out let me show you guys where you'll be sleeping." Sasha said leading the college students down a narrow hall that was cool and breezy. "Paris, Rory, this is our guest room. You'll be staying in here. I hope you girls like it."

"It looks wonderful; I'll have no problem feeling right at home." Rory assured

"I'm not going to lie to you Sasha. I can't comment on this place until I run my inspection." Paris began. "It doesn't look good though. You see, I come to an overall rating of 1-10 based on rating based on 14 different dimensions including but not limited to cleanliness, any scents and or smells, feung shui organization, window trimmings and bathroom accessibility."

Sasha stared at Paris for a moment. In a futile attempt to decipher whether or not she was kidding. However, a Geller never reveals their secrets and so Sasha gazed over to Rory and learned from her affirmative nod that Paris was indeed serious. "Well, I'll show Glen to his room and leave you girls to unpack."

Sasha and Glen walked to the other end of the hall past the guest room and bathroom, past a smaller bedroom with the door cracked every so slightly ajar and finally to a spacious but plain room with a stellar view of the beach.

"Let me apologize in advance." Sasha began. "We originally thought that only Rory and Paris were coming to stay so we just cleared out the guest room. It was only Friday that we found out you were coming and we really had no place to put you so, you and Jess are going to be bunking together in his room for the time being. I know it sounds bad but it's not really awful Jess only really uses his bedroom to sleep and read and he only reads in here when it's raining so you basically have the place to yourself."

"Oh sweet lord!" Glen shouted. "The room isn't bad it's just it's so macho. I can feel it mocking me and emasculating me as we speak. You see there are just blinds on the windows; there are no clever storage options, hardwood floors and the whole black and white motif." He continued gesturing wildly about the room.

Glen had a little bit of a point. The room was had plain decor, modest furnishings and probably in relatively the same condition Jess found it in. The walls were a darker shade of gray and the hardwood floors were smooth, shiny and a rich, deep chestnut. There were strategically placed, black, shag rugs by the four post bed and the sliding door leading out to the beach. A lonely desk sat in the corner with books and papers scattered across it while its companion, a worn looking chair was draped with clothes. To Glen's astonishment, he spotted a yellow and blue surfboard leaning against a wall. However, he began to panic when he spotted two high shelves above the bed.

"What are those up on those high shelves," he questioned. "And how do know they're properly secured?"

"Those are just some of Jess' books and CDs," Sasha said trying to explain Glen's fears away. "But don't worry because if they fall they'll hit Jess before it reaches you because he will be high up in his bed and you will be safe and low to the ground in this nice, cozy cot." With that she kicked out a comfortable and new looking bed from underneath the taller, unmade bed.

Glen's breath started getting shorter and sharper; he began to shake a little and was turning an odd shade of plum. He exclaimed.

"The floor, well, I need to sanitize and disinfect it of course."

"Glen, why don't you relax. I have an idea. Let's step outside for a moment," said Sasha gently ushering him through the sliding doors.

Meanwhile, down the hall Paris decided it was time to interrogate Rory.

"So, why do you think she put us in here?"

"Common sense tells me it's because we're guests and this is the guest room," Rory groaned unzipping her suitcase.

"You think so, huh." Paris squinted her eyes. "Well it's not. This was a completely sexist room assignment. Oh yeah they said let's put the girls together in the pink room. Look at it," she grumbled "all pink and white and frilly."

"You're being ridiculous, Paris." Rory countered while heading over to the closet with her arms full of clothes. "First of all the room is coral, not pink, coral with white and silver accents. And the room is coral because this is a beach house and coral is a summer color. It was also popular during the 50s when this home was built. As for the 'frilly' linen sheets they're purpose is to keep you cool during the hot summer nights and oh my goodness!" She exclaimed opening the closet.

"What's your M.O. Gilmore?" Paris grunted while walking over.

Paris and Rory then proceeded to stare at a little girl sitting on the closet floor blissfully content in her own world unaware of the prying eyes upon her.

"Should we poke her with something?" Paris asked.

"No." Rory scolded. "Just---wait. I'm sure she'll notice us soon enough."

That was up for debate though. The girl couldn't have been any older than nine and had dark, wavy, slightly unmanageable looking hair. She sat perched in the closet on a throne of blankets and pillows wearing blue corduroys and a purple sweater, reading a medical dictionary. When it became evident that the girl was not moving Rory took the first step into coaxing the girl out.

"Hi sweetheart," Rory cooed kneeling down next to the girl. "My name is Rory; I'm a friend of Jess' from Connecticut. He invited me to come and stay for a while. What's your name?"

"My name is Lily, and I offer my sincerest apologies. Were you coming today? I must have written it wrong on my calendar. I'm Sasha's daughter, just Sasha's not Jimmy's."

"Oh, that's right. I remember now. Jess mentioned you in a few of his letters.

"That still doesn't explain why she was sitting in the closet like a creeper." Paris interrupted.

"Let me explain," the little girl started "you see, I can't really focus in large, wide-open spaces. I find there are way too many distractions. I'd much rather curl up in a place like this. I prefer closets but bathtubs work too and there's a great bureau in the living room. I'll just clear out of here and move in there."

"Well, thank you." Rory said. "Do you need any help?" Lily shook her head. "Alright then, I'll see you at dinner."

"I suddenly feel much more normal," commented Paris as she watched Lily leaved the room.

"She's sweet." Rory said hanging up her clothes. "Besides, this is Venice Beach. The people here are supposed to be eccentric."

"I don't know." Paris shook her head. "Maybe, I'm not giving this place a chance."

"You should Paris. I love it here. I can just feel it." And indeed, Rory did love everything about it. She loved the beach and the ocean in general.

She had fond memories of a trip she and Lorelai took the summer before she started first grade. She remembered they were lying on the beach at twilight. Lorelai was slathering aloe vera on her back after contracting a harsh case of sunburn on her back and mumbling about how the lifeguard was better looking than he was good at applying sunscreen. Rory on the other hand had placed her book down and was staring off into the distance when she saw a group of dolphins jump up out of and back into the water. It made her six year old life complete and there have been few experiences since that have rivaled it.

Rory also enjoyed her new habitat. She loved the house's bright, primary colors and its soft, comforting, pastels. The hip and casual 1950s architecture made it easy to let one's guard down and feel at home. Yet, at the same time the gentle noises of the ocean waves rushing ashore, the playful sea breeze which danced in through the windows and the exotic feel of wet sand and sea shells and silky sheets excited Rory and riled up in her romantic, dreamy, hazy feelings that even books could not.

"Hey, hey," a voice interrupted Rory's trance. "The king has arrived home to his castle and has been instructed to escort his two lovely female guests to dinner," said the stranger at the door, who vaguely reminded Rory and Paris of someone they knew. "You ladies don't know who I am do you?" The stranger asked.

"Well," Paris began. "Judging by your full head of jet black hair, olive complexion and Italian nose I'm guessing you're either here to collect protection money or you're Jess' Dad. Jimmy. Jimmy Mariano"

"You must be Paris," Jimmy said to the blond girl. "Jess told me you were quite the character."

Foreseeing an infamous Paris-Geller-Terminator-Tyraid coming on Rory inserted herself in between Jimmy and Paris and extended her hand out to the older man.

"Mr. Mariano. I feel so silly for not introducing myself. In fact, I can't believe I didn't realize you were Jess' Dad the minute I saw you."

"It's alright baby doll!" He exclaimed pulling Rory in for a hug. "No worries and call me Jimmy. Mr. Mariano is an old man's name. Now that were all on a first name basis shall I escort you to dinner?"

"I'll meet you there!" Paris shouted from the bathroom while Rory slipped out of Jimmy's grasp. "I've got meds to take." Rory hesitated but finally took Jimmy's arm.

"I'll gladly go Jimmy." After a few moments of awkward silence Jimmy struck up a conversation.

"I can't believe you're finally here. The elusive Rory Gilmore, prodigal daughter, sweetheart of Stars Hollow, future journalist, apple of my son's eye, the...I'm going stop myself here before I say something dirty."

"Thanks," Rory flushed. "But I hardly think I'm the apple of his eye."

"Sure you are. He's been excited about you coming for weeks. He tries not to show it but I can see it. Oh, I can see it alright. He must have gotten his taste in women from his mother's side of the family though because I like my women blond and crazy."

"Who are you calling blond?" Sasha asked laughing and setting the table for dinner. Rory comfortably seated herself on the right side of the table in between Lily and the empty chair she wanted to leave open for Jess when Glen walked in.

"Hey Glen, haven't seen you since we started unpacking. How do you like your room?" Rory asked.

"Well, I was scared at first but then I unpacked my Windex, Pinesol and therapeutic bean-bag chair and now I'm much better," commented Glen pouring lemonade for himself and Rory.

"You're staying in Jess' room?" Rory asked slightly taken aback and slightly jealous.

"Umm...yea" Glen stammered in response, while nervously picking at his salad.

"Don't worry Glen!" Paris shouted lazily shuffling into the dining room. "Rory's only jealous because she wishes she was in your position."

"Paris!" Exclaimed Jimmy good-naturedly. "What are those fuzzy contraptions on your feet and what possessed you to wear them to my dinner table?"

"Well Jimmy," Paris began sitting down at the table and cutting into her Rosemary chicken. "For your information these amazing things on my feet are slipper flops; a hybrid of your common household slipper and the beachy flip-flop. They provide the wearer with the practicality of flip-flops and the comfort of slippers. And. I'm wearing them now because it is 7:30 and I am strong believer in the proverb earlier to bed early to rise makes a man healthy, wealthy and wise. So, I'll most likely be in bed by nine tonight."

"I see, well, you'll have to excuse us. We're just a bunch of night owls around here," said Jimmy.

"It's alright," said Paris coolly. "You should just get used to me in the sight on these, right Rory?"

"You're lucky she's not already in her PJs." The brunette commented.

After dinner Paris has gone to bed and Glen decided to watch TV with the Marianos. To take her mind off Jess Rory decided to curl up with a book and a blanket in the hammock that she had been admiring all day. Rory was surprised at the relative ease with which she climbed into the hammock. However she had a much harder time getting situated with her blanket and book. Finally, she twisted herself up so that she was finally settled in with Kerouac's The Dharma Bums. She had initially thought of The Demons instead but then remembered she was on vacation and that the Russians had a way of making her feel blue.

Eventually, the breeze died down leaving Rory to rock herself back and forth. She tried leaning from side to side. That didn't work. Then she tried shifting her weight quickly from left to right. That didn't work either. In fact she almost tumbled out of the hammock. She thought she heard someone quietly laughing but saw no one and quickly dismissed it. Considering her mission failed she closed her eyes and curled up under her blanket. Soon after, she felt the gentle rocking motion she had so previously desired. It wasn't the wind and it wasn't anything she had done. It couldn't be. The motion was too steady and consistent. What or who could it be? The Yalie was stumped. But, she had to know so, she fluttered open her eyes.

"Jess!" she gasped happily.

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And that's the end of the first chapter kiddies! I hope you all enjoyed it! I know I'm bad a left this chapter off at a little bit of a cliff hanger. I already have chapter two written it just needs to be typed and this author is getting a new macbook so expect chapter two very, very, very soon. What can you expect in chapter two you ask? Well, the gang goes to the beach and the boardwalk, dinner is had at a boardwalk diner that seems vaguely familiar, Paris deals with sunburn, Rory gets highlights, Jess bonds with Lily and Glen discovers tanning. Oh, and did I mention there's some Java Junkie on the way because there so is. Thanks for reading!!!

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	2. Meanwhile, back in Stars Hollow

Disclaimer: I don't own Gilmore Girls, any of its characters, any of the places mentioned in here or Anastasia Beaverhausen. I actually own very little just a lot worn out books, some jeans and Victoria's secret PINK clothes, many fuzzy pillows and an odd collection of novelty pens but as I said before I do not own the Gilmore Girls any of its characters settings or enterprises nor anything associated with the WB or Amy Sherman Palladino. Phew! ***author takes a deep breath*** Now on with the show.

Author's Notes: I am well aware that technically this is a Literati fic and that I haven't updated in nearly a year. I'm begging you all please, please, please don't hate me. My super busy school year has wrapped up and I am back with a couple brand new chapters for your reading pleasure. This chapter is shorter than the first and takes place in Stars Hollow but it does move the story along and who can resist some Java Junkie.

Luke Danes glanced over the counter for what seemed like the 50th time that minute. She just wouldn't leave.

"Don't you have an Inn to build?" he asked refilling Lorelai's coffee mug.

"Yeah," she pouted sighing deeply. "But I don't wanna go. We have this totally overzealous building inspector coming. Her just moved here from Texas and still hasn't managed to drop the whole walker Texas ranger, tobacco chewing, big hat wearing, foreigner hating bit yet so, needless to say I am not thrilled about being alone with him and Michele today."

"Well, I'm sorry for your trouble. Is there anything I can do?" Lorelai frowned put her head into her cupped hands and looked at Luke with sparkling eyes.

"No thanks for asking though. I just can't believe how much I miss Rory already. Why does California have to be so crazy far away from Connecticut? I wish she wasn't still so hung up on your punk nephew." She paused briefly expecting a snide in retaliation and surprised when it didn't come asked "What no attempts to defend the Danes family honor?" Luke leaned in close with his forearms up on the countertop.

"It's got nothing to do with family honor. He is a punk and there was nothing I could do about it. But hopefully, this move in with his dad will help him."

For one of the rare moments in her life Lorelai Victoria Gilmore was speechless. The answer was so mature, so zen, so live and let die. Not classic Luke Danes at all. This conversation was traveling to the corner of emotional and uncomfortable fast. She had to find a way to drag it back to the local silly farm.

"Yeah, well all I know is that if my daughter comes back married or pregnant or with dreadlocks or worst of all with a whole new wardrobe full of peasant skirts and Birkenstocks I am going to run all the way to Venice Beach faster and with more passion than Forest Gump had in his littlest pinkie nail. It was at that moment both she and Luke realized they had been carrying on this conversation entirely too long free of townsfolk interruption.

"What if the peasant skirts are to hide the pregnancy?" Babette exclaimed from her table by the window, spurring a whole fluster of excitement throughout the diner.

"Well then Babette I'll just have to tell her that when attempting to hide your shameful love child everyone knows that big, baggy band t-shirts are the way to go." Lorelai hesitated.

"If I were your Lorelai I'd be more concerned about elopement. You can marry anyone at anytime in California. I married my fifth husband in Carmel on a Wednesday, divorced him in San Francisco on Friday married my sixth husband in San Diego on Saturday and re-married my fifth husband again in Hollywood on Sunday." Ms. Patty told everyone in the diner but held Lorelai's hand the entire time as she felt that established some sort of connection.

Astonished Lorelai turned to Luke and they had one of their speaking without actually speaking moments. Those secret moments when they unintentionally locked eyes and could read eachothers' minds—like magic. Luke broke the silence first.

"I've taken Miss. Patty for a lot of things over the years but bigamist was never one of them. Is bigamist even the right word to describe the debauchery she just reminisced about?"

"Technically, yes" Kirk chimed in. "Although it is usually used to describe a situation in which a man has taken two wives. Bigamy is accurate at anytime when one person has taken two spouses. No more, no less. You see the pre-fix 'bi' means two and the root 'amy' is Latin for marriage or partnership. So, technically yes Miss. Patty could be labeled a bigamist."

"Hey if Mr. Rochester could do it why can't I?" Miss Patty hooted as she and Babette broke into hysterics.

"Actually Miss Patty Mr. Rochester only tried to be a bigamist. His secret brother-in-law caught him before he could marry Jane Eyre. That's two fun facts before 8:30 this is the best fun-fact Friday ever!" Kirk exclaimed.

Just then proverbial lightening struck Lorelai. "Oh my god! It can't be Friday!" She said in her panicky voice clutching her metallic purse. She turned slowly in ninety-degree shifts. "Luke, if you love me you know in that purely platonic way in which you do. You will stand here before me and tell me that today is not Friday and that I do not have to go to dinner at my parents' tonight all by myself."

"I am a little confused. Are you asking me to tell you that today isn't Friday or asking me to go to Friday night dinner with you because either way the answer is no."

"But Luke!" She exclaimed with a dramatic hair toss. "If you don't go who else will I bring; Sookie's doing baby stuff, Michele's doing French guy stuff and plus you're obligated to go with me as you're partially responsible for Rory not being here. If she wasn't still so in love with your nephew she wouldn't be here. And if you hadn't brought Jess here in the first place she wouldn't have been able to fall in love with him and so Lucas Danes I will see you tonight at 6:30 sharp. Be prompt and try to look as Lumberjack-y as possible I really want to drive my mother as far up the wall as possible."

Luke gingerly lifted up her plate, in an attempt to clean his counters. "How do I put this so simply that even Kirk could understand…No."

"Luke! I'm down on my knees here and not in a dirty way although if that's the only way to convince you into going I am not above it. First though, I am going to try guilt. Luke Danes if you don't go to dinner with me tonight I will have no choice but to bring Anastasia."

"Who?"

"Anastasia Beaverhausen—she's the sock puppet I made out of that one sock I can never find a match to and the leftover glitter, felt and googly eyes from the make your-own greeting cards kit Rory and I only opened that one time but than there was an Thin Man Movie Marathon on Turner Classic Movie so we put it on the dining room table and never got back to it." Luke stared for a moment, without blinking just trying to take it all in. "She's also Russian royalty." Lorelai added feeling her story needed that extra dash a pizzazz.

"Okay, I'll go but only because if you show up voicing a sock puppet your parents will lock you up and throw away the key and I can't afford to lose my best customer."

"Yea!" Lorelai exclaimed spinning around on her stool.


	3. Sweet Dreams

"How long were you watching me?" Rory asked

"After you got your arm caught in the hammock but before you twisted your leg and almost feel out," said Jess with a smirk

"I knew it!" Rory exclaimed. "It was you laughing at me, wasn't it? I knew I heard something."

"It was good natured I swear. Besides, I came down here and rocked you to safety so you didn't fall out."

"Oh well excuse me," said Rory jokingly with a fake southern bell accent while twirling her hair "sometimes I forget that I'm just a girl who can't defend myself." Jess hostility climbed into the hammock with her while Rory placed her book down and laid back.

"Just as long as you know it." He told her.

"So, where've you been all this time? We got here at five this afternoon."

"My work shift was from 12-6 and then I had class from 6:30-9." Rory shot up abruptly, as Jess had never been a huge fan of class of any sort.

"What kind of class?" She questioned. He hesitated and mumbled.

"It's nothing really, you know, just a GED class."

"A GED class!" she exclaimed. "I'm so happy for you. This is great!"

Jess shrugged, "It's not a big deal or anything. It's just two and a half hours on three times a week. I go to class, absorb it all and then breeze through the homework."

"It is a big deal though, a really big deal." A breeze came through and Rory wrapped herself up in the blanket. "With a GED you can go to college and get a better job. Do all those amazing things I always knew you could."

"Yea," he said looking over at her. "You always did believe in me when no one else did. Do you think you could do one more thing for me?" Rory leaned in and upwards anticipating a romantic embrace.

"Yes." She cooed in the sweetest voice she could muster. However, instead of feeling true love's first kiss Rory literally felt the rug or rather the blanket being pulled out from underneath her.

"I need you to share some of that blanket with me." Jess joked with her while snatching her blanket away.

"Jess!" She squealed loudly. He came back at her with just as much volume.

"What? I don't see a problem here. You clearly weren't that cold to begin with seeing as you're wearing a tank top. Besides, I guarantee you that it's warmer here tonight than any June afternoon in Stars Hollow.

"Na-uh" teased Rory, trying to steal her blanket back.

"Well Excuse Me!" Paris' voice boomed from the now open guest bedroom window. It was then that Rory realized how severely she and Jess had misjudged not only the volume of their voices but their distance from the house and now they would have to face the wrath of a cranky Paris. The best way to face that wrath you ask? Why head on of course.

Jess got out of the hammock and swaggered over to the window, Rory followed suit. "The famous Paris Geller," he said leaning an elbow on the windowsill. "I'm glad to see Yale hasn't softened you any." Rory came up next to him.

"What I am sure Jess meant to say was we're very sorry we woke you. We didn't realize we were being so loud and will make sure it never happens again." Paris tilted her head and crossed her arms.

"Well you are right, Rory. You were both being incredibly loud. Jess I can excuse though, I mean he's practically an orphan. No one ever taught him any manners. But you, you should know better. Now maybe your dewy eyes and waifish complexion happen magically but I need eight solid hours of beauty sleep or else I tend to get irritable."

"And we wouldn't want that now would we Ror?" Jess asked with just a touch of sarcasm.

"Ha-Ha," Paris mocked from the window. "I'm going to TRY to go back to bed now." And with that final grunt the windows finally flew shut.

Jess gathered up Rory's things and began to walk towards the house. He began, "in all seriousness Ror, you should probably get some sleep. I have the day off tomorrow and was planning on showing you guys around."

Rory's eyes brightened. "Really, did you make sure to Paris-approve all the activites?"

Paris' voice came bellowing down upon them again. "I heard that you two very loud, very annoying people! Oh Jess," she peaked her head out the window. "You should get to bed too. You see you're bunking with Glen and he's an even lighter sleeper than I am."

"Care to elaborate on Paris' most recent tangent?" Jess asked while opening the door.

"Oh don't worry. Glen's not that bad once you get used to his idiosyncrasies. Just remember whatever you do…don't make any sudden movements. You'll be okay." She said in an attempt to soothe him.

"Well thank you for that valuable tip." He countered back. "So, you umm know where the guest room is, where the bathroom is and you're already unpacked?" Rory cast her eyes at the hallway in front of her, knowing it was time to say good night and was a little sad.

"I'm okay. I don't need anything. Thank you though. For inviting Paris and me out here and for letting Glen tag along. The adjustment to Yale's been tough and it just so nice. It's like having a little tropical vacation. I'm sorry. I don't mean to ramble. What I mean is goodnight, Jess," With that Rory retreated to her room, full of embarrassment.

"Yeah, goodnight Ror," he said watching her walk away.

Jess wasn't quite ready to face Glen yet, not after reading about all his quirks in Rory's letters. He just didn't have the patience. He opted instead for a hot shower.

Rory, on the other hand wanted nothing more than to go to bed but just couldn't sleep. She sat in front of the mirror brushing the same part of hair over and over again. Having her hair brushed, either by herself or someone else always relaxed her.

Out of the corner of her eye Rory could see the monster known as Paris after dark rise out of her coffin-esque sleep.

"How long do you plan on keeping me awake with the incessant racket?"

"Paris, there's no possible way that you could of heard me brushing my hair. It's almost completely silent in here. You could hear a proverbial and literal pin drop," said Rory, placing her brush down.

"My hearing is very sensitive," Paris began re-fluffing her pillows. "When I was a baby I used to spend a lot of time in those wheel n' walk things, because you know my mother said that holding me raised her blood pressure and made the skin on her chest all blotchy. So one day they were fighting because my mother fired the maid, my father's current eye candy that day before so in revenge my father fired the pool boy. It was the middle of October so no harm, no foul there but our house quickly fell apart without a maid and it was just that same mess my parents were arguing about that I tripped over in my wheel n' walk and sent me flying down a flight of stairs."

"Paris!" Rory interrupted. "This story needs to wrap itself up into a beautiful Christmas present soon or else you will have no place to talk about my hairbrushing keeping you up all night." Paris grunted and grimaced.

"Anyways," she glared. "That was when I fell down the grand stair case from the master suite to the foyer. The doctor estimated it was a good two and half flights. Of course, I was all right being the fighter I am. Sometimes, I go partially color blind out of the corners of my eyes. The nice thing about that is how it heightened all my other senses to near superhero proportions. You know Rory, I am just a bad dye job and a ridiculous outfit away from being wonder woman."

"Gosh Paris it all makes so much sense now. All those times you've backed me into a corner with your lasso of truth. But riddle me this, how have you been getting the invisible jet past me all these years. Do you need a special permit to park that thing in the lot at school."

"You know what Gilmore, the sooner you let me finish, the sooner we can all sleep. And so…" she triumphantly said "It is because I have such super heightened senses that I can hear you brushing your hair for no good reason at eleven o'clock at night." In an effort to make amends Rory crawled to the edge of her bed, grabbed her pillow and hugging it tightly gathered up the most sympathetic face she could muster and said.

"I'm so sorry Paris, it's just that, brushing my hair relaxes me in that it clears my mind. And ever since we've gotten here I just can't stop thinking my mind is just whirling around and around with thoughts about…" Rory was rudely interrupted when she noticed a pillow came flying right at her.

"Jess!" Paris exclaimed "I know, everyone in this house knows, everyone in the golden state of California knows, even people in Cambodia know. The good people of Cambodia texted me just a little while ago and asked me when it would stop."

In that brief moment Rory ceased thinking instead, a light bulb went on above her head; she was on vacation—she didn't have to take this bullshit here. Oh sure, she put everyone's needs above her own back in Connecticut—no matter how ridiculous they may have been but they weren't in New England anymore. Oh no, this was the West Coast, the land of the hippies, and 90s punk rock and glamorous old Hollywood. This is a land where people didn't have a Governor they had a govenator and certainly in the land of the governator it's every girl for herself.

"You know what Paris?" She demanded, "You're just jealous. You're beside yourself with anger that I have a second chance at something real here because you know that Asher will never commit to you and even if he did it would never work out!" Vehemently, she yanked the comforter and sheet off her mattress and wrapped them around her pillow. She carefully grabbed something unidentifiable out of her luggage and stormed out. "If you feel like apologizing I'll be bunking with Jess and Glenn!"

At the other end of the hall Jess emerged from his hot shower and squinted in the bathroom mirror. There appeared to be some sort of note taped to it. Gingerly, he untapped the note and began to read from top to bottom… 'heights' 'spiders' 'driving by myself in the dark' 'reading by myself in the dark' 'sleeping in the dark' 'okay scratch those just the dark in general' 'taco day in the cafeteria' 'small spaces' 'large spaces' 'Paris at pretty much any given moment' 'driving a car at over 25 mph from November through March' 'Giant Gumballs' 'Flavored dipping sauces' "Diet Cola' "Roller Coasters' "Bays, but not beaches' 'axe body sprays' the list went on but Jess just couldn't find the patience to continue reading.

"Glen," he said swinging open the door "Why did I find a list of what I can only imagine to be your fears taped to the bathroom mirror." Glen sat up abruptly.

"Because, as you'll notice on the other side of the list that I am afraid of you. I thought that I tried to explain all my phobias to your face that I would set off your infamously short Italian fuse."

"First of all I'm Italian and Irish. Second of all it's time to lay down some ground rules. I won't do anything to you unless you give me good reason, which you won't."

"No! Never purposely but if I accidently did something would you warn me before you know unleashing your wrath." Irritated, Jess used every ounce of self control he possessed to not slam his closet door and unleash his wrath all over Glenn.

"Look Glenn," he said towel drying his hair. "I don't know what Rory told you about me or if she's even told you anything about me. But I don't have a violent temper. I don't even fight anymore and unless your some kind of paranoid, hypochondriac, obsessive-compulsive, anal-retentive nut job who never lets anything go you're not going to get on my nerves." Glen began to fidget with his hands.

"Well, if we're going to be truthful. I've actually been diagnosed with all those things." Jess closed his eyes and took a deep breath.

"That's okay," he said grabbing some clothes and heading back into the bathroom. "At least you're not an asshole." Safely locked away in the bathroom Jess sighed deeply and began to rub his temples. He didn't know if he could do this for three weeks.

Old Jess would push all his anger down inside of him until it exploded upside Glen's head. But new Jess he had strategies to deal with frustrations like these. He would break down what seemed like the endless three weeks into smaller chunks of time. He only had to be alone with Glen when it was time to go to bed. And when you go to bed you should be sleeping and not talking. So if he could just keep the pre-bed chit chat to a minimum his sanity still might be intact three weeks from now. Taking a deep breath he walked back into the bedroom. "You don't mind sleeping on the cot do you, Glen?" he asked.

"Oh not at all. I much prefer being closer to the ground here in California. You see if we experience one of the freak earthquakes which the Golden State is so famous for any rubble which falls from the ceiling will hit you and I will have time to roll over into a protective shell."

Jess counted his blessings and pulled back the covers on his bed when he heard a knock at the door. "Come on in." he said, wondering who it could possibly be at this hour.

"Hi," said Rory as she came through the door meekly. "What are you guys up to?" Jess folded his arms complacently.

"We were just talking about how crazy Glen is?"

" Oh, good maybe he can go bunk with Paris and we'll put a big sign on the room that says 'crazy cabin'." Jess crossed his arms.

"What happened?" he asked, throwing his head back.

"Paris is insane that's what happened. We haven't even been here a whole day yet and already she's being completely unreasonable. So," she began in an assertive tone. "I'm going to stay here tonight."

"Where? Here?" Glen panicked "but there's only two beds. There's no room for you and that thing you're holding." He said gesturing to her worn out, stuffed cat. Rory hugged the stuffed animal close to her.

"Neither I nor, Mr. Mittens takes up that much space. Besides, if it's that big a deal I'll sleep on the floor."

"No, you can have my bed. I'll sleep on the floor. Glenn just stay there. Don't move, don't talk, and just don't do anything." Said Jess sharply.

Rory vaguely sensed that she was beginning to outstay her welcome and only 9 hours into her vacation. That is never a good sign. Exhausted, she climbed into her temporary bed and squirmed around trying to get comfortable. The bed was just so firm, it was like lying on plywood. She tossed aside her fluffy pillow. It did her no good, her head just fell through back onto the cardboard.

"Jess," she whispered into the darkness. He peered back up at her with his coffee colored eyes.

"What?'

"I can't sleep. How do you sleep on this bed."

"I don't know. How did you decided that Mr. Mittens was a good name." Rory gasped.

"Because, his paws are black and so when I was little it made me think he was wearing mittens."

"But, Ror, you wear mittens on your hands. Why would he wear mittens on his front legs, which are essentially his arms and his back legs, which are his feet. You don't wear mittens on your feet." He rolled on his side to face her better and smirked mischievously. Rory buried her face into her pillow.

"I know," she giggled "I was five when it happened though, so you'll have to give me a break. Besides, it's almost one I don't have time to sit here and debate with you over cat appendages and what kinds of clothing should be worn on them. We have to get up early tomorrow." She was surprised when she was met with silence. "Don't we?" she pondered into the darkness.

"Maybe," he said sitting up close to her face. "Maybe we're getting up early and all going to breakfast and than going around town. You'll just have to wait and see," and with that drifted to sleep.

"But Jess, Jess" she whispered frantically. "It's going to rain tomorrow." She gave up however, when she realized her cries were falling on deaf or rather sleeping ears.


End file.
